Tag Archives: family

It’s also Ashley’s birthday, so Ivy is super excited because she gets to go to a princess party.

Was up early this morning beginning an outline for a story – it it something worth finishing and trying to get published? Or like every other project I start will I get halfway there and lose interest. We’ve yet to see.

Well, I went for a ride with Greg and Kate today. We hopped on the bikes and followed Greg’s parents out the the Yorston Farm and had Cinnamon Buns. They have an event called Cinnamon Sunday each Sunday in May. Buns are 1$ each and really, really yummy. We took some curvy roads home. (Yorston Farm, incidentally, is where we went to the super awesome corn maze last year, and will be going again this fall.)

When I got home I changed my oil and filter in my bike. Nice clean oil now, will be dirty in a day or two. The curvy roads were fun, and Greg brought the extra pieces for my left fairing, so I can hopefully tighten up my dash and whatnot. Sweetness.

Tom, Chris, Scott, Sam and I worked on putting together Ivy’s new swing set! She loves it, it has one baby swing in the middle, two big kid swings, a slide and a teeter-totter. The whole thing was enjoyed by all of the kids, because Mel brought her little ones, Ally and James over as well! Super awesome sunny Sunday. (And it was Sun-Day as well, nice and warm at about 22*C)

Then we had some yummy barbecued pork chops, courtesy of Samantha. Salad too – the first and only thing I ate today other than a cinnamon bun. It was super to sit outside with the family and enjoy some dinner.

After dinner Samantha and I cleaned the barbecue, CLR and Scotch-Pads baby! We scrubbed and hosed and sprayed and cursed and cleaned and rinsed and …. whew! The BBQ should be nice and clean for next thing we cook on it – maybe ceder plank salmon tomorrow night.

I also managed to get our three herb pots planted, the three pepper plants and the extra herbs in the herb garden in the back. I’m hoping my garlic chives and leeks do well back there too – the rubarb is still scrawny, it hasn’t put down good roots yet. Maybe I should find some good food safe fertilizer to drop down back there. We have parsley and something else new – can’t even remember what I planted.

Then, to finish off the night Chris, Sam and I put some Mario Kart Wii on and raced ourselves silly. I have to get my sorry, sunburned butt to work in the morning, so I’m about to crash now. See y’all later!

This is a repost from my ex-blog at myspace. I wrote this late one night after a scary experience, and decided it was good enough to make the transition over here. If you’re reading this in a RSS reader the story is (should be) after the cut.

Sippy Cup – A Story

Upon reflection, my first mistake, like probably that of most men, began with (mostly) altruism .

It was the middle of the night and I heard the baby crying pitifully through the baby monitor.I thought to myself.

“Self”, Says I, “The baby is crying.”

“Yeah”, Says my tired man brain.“Get stuffed.”

“Self, if you was to get up and give the baby her juice and change her diaper, the mom might like it.”

“Yeah”. Says my still very tired man brain.“Get stuffed.”

“Self!”

“Yeah?”The response was sleepy now.

“Think about, how shall we say, the benefits.”

“Ooooh.”

I got up.

I got the sippy cup.

I entered the tired, crying, child’s bedroom.There was entirely too much light, and the child was entirely too thirsty.I was tired, so everything was a little “too” something.

I changed the child.Figuring in my tired way that damp pants means a damp diaper, and that can’t be too comfortable to sleep in.Besides, I told myself, when I relate the story to the thankful girl in the morning, changing the kid makes me look better.

I took the sippy cup, and went back to bed. On my way back to the bed, something curious happened.

Just as I was approaching the bed, to put the sippy cup on the bedside table beside the baby monitor, the alarm clock, the water jug and the woman, (before scarpering back to my warm side of the bed and turning off my brain for a few more hours) she woke up.

She must have slept, much like I intended, through the part where I got up and got out of bed, and stumbled out of the room, and stubbed my toe and cursed and did my heroic midnight baby changing.

She must have slept well, and still thought I was beside her.Because the look of horror that crossed her face, thinking I was an intruder, was classic.

She clutched the bed, shrank back, and inhaled.Loudly.

You know the sound that girls make when the chainsaw wielding psychopath jumps out at the lone escaping hero near the end of the horror movie, right when you know he will and anticipation has been building for minutes on end?(Ok, that’s the sound I make, the girl normally screams.)